30 days OTP challenge - Mystrade
by TheGov
Summary: I took up the challenge, so here you are, have some Mystrade fluff. Established relationship. Please, review whether you liked it or not! Writing along with Luckyfreak232 who chose our themes - go and check her Delena version too!
1. Embarrassment

_ 1. Embarrassment  
_

* * *

When Greg winced while shifting in his chair, Sherlock couldn't help but snorted. John wasn't really fond of the situation, but Greg was still the same Greg and was his friend, so he politely nudged his flatmate and sent an apologizing glance to the cop.

And then, an idea appeared in his head. Shorter man pulled Sherlock's arm down to whisper something into his ear.

Lestrade's face strained as from many of words he only managed to hear _Christmas, deer stalker_ and _revenge _and younger Holmes smirked, slightly nodding his head.

But it wasn't really because of _that_, as Sherlock had decuded! Because, honestly, there were plenty of ways you can get a pain in your arse, weren't they? Seriously. Greg just wasn't very lucky lately.

Five days before, he was driving his motorbike after a long time again. Despite the chilly winter night, wandering through quiet London was pretty nice and relaxing. But the seat. It just… didn't seem so comfortable as it used to be and after an hour the DI wanted only to get home and nestle in the cosy armchair.

Four days before, he slipped on a wet floor in the corridor of New Scotland Yard. Sally laughed at her boss' painful expression, but eventually smiled amicably and helped him to get up.

Three days before, when he was walking home, someone riding a bike bumped on his back and ran away without a word of apology. Youth these days…

Two days before, Lestrade returned really late at night. He didn't want to disturb already sleeping Mycroft as he knew, other man had a not very good day, so he got a concept to slumber on the sofa. Sadly, it was a bit too little and he ended up falling onto the carpet with a loud swearword.

So that day, it wasn't really his fault he couldn't sit properly. Nor Mycroft's.

Well, he had to admit, the previous day he got a firm spat or two _or eight and, oh God, it was so good he begged for more_,but still, Sherlock was wrong.

But he didn't say anything and let the memory of smiling detective blur over the paperwork and cases and older Holmes' embrance.

Christmas came and both of them was surprised, when the mysterious box wrapped with a ribbon arrived to their flat. There was a note attached, but it didn't explain more – just printed MR. HOLMES and NEXT TIME MAKE USE OF IT on the other side. Mycroft questioningly looked at his partner, but Greg only shook his head in answer. He also had absolutely no idea what was going on.

They decided to take a risk and look inside. Holmes worked on a ribbon while the DI was playing with the piece of paper, trying to figure out who could send it. He suddenly reminded himself John saying something to his friend in the office, something that included _Christmas_.

He went pale but then he felt his cheeks burning.

"Sher…lock…" was the only thing Greg managed to mutter, as he watched Mycroft opening a weird gift and shaking it contents off to the bed. Man raised an eyebrow at the bunch of variety kinds of supplies now laying on the sheet.

The cop was sure his face turned more intense shade of red than their deeply scarlet duvet had.

* * *

**Hello!**

**This is my very first attempt to write fanfiction in English as well as Mystrade.**  
**As you may already know, English isn't my first language, but I'm trying very hard and my beta is checking every little piece for me - but if there are still any mistakes, please, let me know so I could correct it and improve my language skill! ;)**  
**Also please, after reading, leave a review. I'm a little afraid about publishing it and would love to know whether is likeable or rather not. Any kind of opinion very welcome! (just no hates, please. There are many ways you can say you don't like something without offending anyone!)**

**Only idea is mine, original story belongs to sir Arthur Conan-Doyle and characters desings to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat.**


	2. Adoration

_2. Adoration_

* * *

Mycroft woke up when he felt soft fingers wandering around his bare shoulders. He shifted slightly, but his eyes remained closed. There was no need to get up early this morning, besides, the feeling was quite nice and sweet. Until Mycroft realized, it was not a _random wandering_, but it was a _planned wandering between his freckles_. Holmes cleared his throat to let know he was no longer asleep, before murmuring into a pillow.

"Could you, please, stop it?" There was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

He could feel the other man shaking his head and then gently pressing his lips to the government's official's shoulder.

"I am serious, Gregory. There's no need to remind me about these."

Lestrade sighed, but slowly pulled. "I don't see why would it bother you at all."

"You know why very well."

"Well, but I don't."

"You don't know?" Holmes raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"No. I don't hate them." Greg said before giving man's back yet another kiss. "I find them quite adorable." Hands tenderly stroked man's sides under the thin duvet.

Mycroft mumbled something under his breath, but was still too sleepy to argue. It was always the same scenario, anyway. The DI chuckled and wrapped his arms around his lover's waist, burying head in his neck.

"You are beautiful. With all your dots and freckles. Deal with it." He whispered smoothly into Mycroft's flesh.

"Am not."

"Shush. You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Don't you even try to deny it. You may be _the British Government_ or rule the United Kingdom, if not the whole world yet, but at this point you're wrong."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're the most stubborn person." Mycroft murmured but leaned more into the embrance. "Honestly, even more than my dear brother _and_ the Scottish politicians."

Greg laughed once again. "But you love me that way" Holmes just slightly rolled his eyes at these words. "and I adore every little piece of you, remember that eventually, Myc."


	3. Party

_3. Party_

* * *

It was Greg's night off and Mycroft took a full advantage of it by taking him to one of these elegant, posh, social parties he had often attended.

Cop had to admit they were usually quite boring, but opportunity to spend some more time with each other was always welcome. Besides, Mycroft simply asked, and if Lestrade didn't want to, he could have always refuse.

By the time the party has really started, Greg was introduced by Mycroft to a dozen of different people as _a close friend of mine_. The DI was smiling politely at all of them, at least _trying_ to remember their names and positions. He had already met a very few of them, but they didn't seem to remember him as well.

He knew that time would finally come, but anyway, the DI felt a little bit lost when Mycroft had to leave him on his own in order to discuss some important and most probably top secret national matters.

Gregory found himself in a companionship of a pretty woman, who was referring to herself as a _young, aspiring and full of brand new ideas politician_. At the beginning of their conversation, she let him know she really enjoyed company of policemen and kept showing it all the time. He had a desire to run away from her just then, but he didn't want to be rude. When she found out Lestrade didn't have a girlfriend, he could only pray in his mind for her to stop getting closer. Even though man was moving a little bit back every now and then, she didn't seem to get it and was gesticulating kinda… broadly, didn't missing any occasion to touch his arm or chest. But when her hand eventually rested on his shoulder, Greg couldn't help but murmured something about friend looking for him along with a quick goodbye, and hastily got away.

After a while of wandering around the ballroom, he found a safe, quiet place. The balcony. There was almost no one, just a couple, but too much focused on themselves to notice the cop. He leaned back on the railing and observed the room with narrowed eyes, trying to find the familiar face.

He was still standing there, when the music started and pairs began to concentrate in the middle of the ballroom, in order to dance waltz. Lestrade found himself almost ready to move towards the door and find his partner, when he realized, it didn't have any sense anyway. They couldn't do it there. They couldn't dance together, hold hands, hug, kiss. Not even show anyone what kind of relationship they've had for real. Man sighed, letting his elbows rest on the cold railing once again.

He managed to find Mycroft after a moment. He was dancing with a woman, then next one and yet another. Greg knew it was ridiculous, but he felt a little bit jealous about them. Then Holmes again changed his parter and policeman recognized the girl he had talked to before. She didn't look very happy about who was she dancing with and kept looking around, obviously searching for someone. The cop chuckled. _Here it is, Mycroft's revenge for touching his property._

Finally, the ball ended. Mycroft and Greg found themselves and got into the car. Lestrade looked at his lover with a concern in his eyes, as the other man sighed and rubbed his temple.

"You okay?"

"Yes, thank you, just a little bit tired."

Lestrade took other man's hand in his, pulling him a little and they remained silent for the rest of the drive.

Later that night, Greg was already putting his pyjamas on, while Mycroft was still shaving. Shorter man closed his eyes as he was buttoning the top. He sighed quietly. It was a long day and all Greg wanted was to cuddle up with his partner and fall asleep. He jumped slightly when slender arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to the man standing behind. Lestrade managed to turn around in the embrace and looked up at Mycroft's face.

"Myc, stop scaring me to death, will you?" Cop said, but smiled and put his hands on Holmes' hips.

"Sorry, love."

Mycroft let go and took other man's hands in his, delicately removing them from his body. Greg was about to protest, but closed his mouth when he realized what Holmes was doing. He drew up his arms slightly and set them in a kinda position to dance, trying to still stay as close as possible. Lestrade looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but didn't object.

"Thought you were tired?"

"You wanted to dance with me."

Greg glanced aside. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I saw you. And then, you were standing there and looking at me. " The government's official smiled slightly and pushed a little other man's leg with his own, to made them move. "No. You were _staring_."

The DI obeyed, but rolled his eyes. "Honestly, we don't even have music."

Mycroft said nothing, just held Gregory and moved their bodies in a slow, tender waltz. Since it wasn't very convenient and both of them were quite tired, they've resigned from the typical pose, instead just holding each other.

Greg closed his eyes, let his head rest in crook of Holmes' neck and sighed contently. He could stay like that forever. In his lover's sweet and warm embrace, not caring about the world for a while... Mycroft felt pretty much the same. It was his little escape from the eyeryday, here, at home with Gregory. He leaned down to leave a gentle kiss on his head and felt warm breath on skin, while Lestrade spoke, snapping the government's official out of this thoughts.

"You were dancing with her."

Holmes blinked, surprised by the sudden state. "I was dancing with many women."

"I mean, _her_. The woman I was talking with. Or rather, she was talking to me." Greg groaned at the memory and Mycroft laughed.

„She was looking for someone to dance with, so I simply offered myself."

"She was looking for me."

"Since you weren't there, I felt obliged to entertain her."

The DI smiled against other's flesh. "Yes, it was surely entertainment for you, _tormenting _her."

Holmes smiled in answer, easing down their rhythm, so eventually they were just slightly rocking backwards and forwards.

"You didn't seem to enjoy yours conversation. I wanted to amuse you a little."

"Oh, and you did that job very well." Greg grinned, leaning up to kiss his lover.

"Anything for you, love."


	4. Eternity

_4. Eternity_

* * *

How did it even happen? Gregory Lestrade didn't really know.

A moment of distraction, one coffee to little, one turning around too much. And there he was.

Probably in an old, abandoned building (he was pretty cold and not only because just an undershirt covered his upper body). Tied up to an comfortless chair with a quite strong robe tightly holding his chest straight against the seat. His wrists cuffed behind the back. With a piece of material stuck in his mouth and wrapped around his occiput. A little bruised on the shoulders, but luckily nothing too serious. Light headed… possibly drugged? He could also feel a trickle of blood on the temple.

_Stunned_.

Lestrade thought and shook his head in disbelief, but regretted as soon as he did it. The blunt pounding started to spread all over his skull, making it hard to even think. Man inhaled shallowly, hissing quietly into the gag. After a while of hesitation, he tugged on the handcuffs. They seemed to be his own pair, the one he used to carry around with himself on the shift.

_Concentrate. Who might have done it? Why possibly are you here? Well, in the beginning, WHERE are you?_

The DI very delicately turned head to have a look around, but his eyes couldn't catch anything helpful through the surrounding darkness yet. There was also no answer to _who_ or _why_ questions in his head. Of course he had enemies, he was the cop after all, but he didn't suspect any of them to use such methods to frighten him. True, they (of course with _a little_ of Sherlock's help) brought down a drug gang recently, but whole dozen was already sitting in a jail, waiting for the trial. Finally, confusion made his head hurt even more, so he gave it all up for a moment. It would be better to be conscious, at all.

But then, he noticed the silence. That kind of an uncomfortable silence you just need to break immediately. But his throat was too dry to let out any kind of sound, besides, for the time being, it was better to keep quiet and not take a risk. It spilt around, giving him an awkward feeling of being here on his very own, forgotten by a whole world, _forgotten by Mycroft_. Honestly, not really good moment for sentiments. He got this thought out of his head as fast as he could. But after a few minutes of just sitting there and simply trying to collect himself, Greg thought that silence was going to drive him insane.

Lack of ideas withdrawed any further deducing. Escalating pain and his already numbed arms withdrawed any attempts to move.

So, nolens volens, Gregory Lestrade sat there in the silence, praying in his mind for someone or something to somehow help him, until his eyelids became heavy and eventually closed.

…

What woke the copper up, was a buzz of a mobile, somewhere near.

_His_ mobile.

Broken down some time ago vibrate device was emitting also quiet cracks every now and then. Greg gathered all his energy to focus and find out where exactly the small, vibrating thing was. And he did. The phone was laying too far away to be within reach, but still close enough to recognize a picture showing up at the screen. It was blurred in his sight at the moment, but man remembered it very well. It was the only one photo of Mycroft, which got the government's official's approval and Greg could use it as a caller ID. Cop unconsciously let out a quiet whine. The mobile suddenly went black, but after a moment lighten up and started to vibrate once again.

That was, until heavy, leather boot stepped on and completely crashed the delicate object. Lestrade looked up to see an unfamiliar blond guy. He was quite surprise at start, it seemed that he didn't expect to see the hostage awoken, but then grinned and called out.

"Oi! Out little Government Hooker woke up!"

The DI narrowed his eyes.

_Government Hooker_

He had heard that before…

_Government…_

He blinked in the realization.

_Of course._

Not that long ago, someone had changed his ringtone to this song. First, he though it was Mycroft. But Mycroft did _not_ joke like that. And now Greg knew it wasn't a joke. It was a signal.

Sudden, rough grab on his hair drove him back to the reality.

"Hello, beautiful" Unknown man leaned down to whisper into his ear. "Or should I say, _slut_. You got it now-" Man pointed at the destroyed mobile with his head "didn't you?"

Lestrade instinctively tried to turn his face away, but strong hand held him in place.

"I wouldn't wriggle like that, if I were you."

He let out a small sigh of relief when hand vanished, along with the gag. Greg allowed himself to take a deep breath.

"Instead, I'd rather have you talking." Greg tilted his head slightly in question, though he finally had an idea what was it all about…

"About Mycroft Holmes, for example."

The DI let out a dry chuckle and immediately his cheek burnt under a wallop.

"You can start with his flat in The City."

There was another slap, as he remained silent.

"Well, if not that, I don't mind listening about Mr. Holmes' usual schedule and whereabouts."

This time Greg smiled cheekly while raising his head to look at the man standing in front of him. He somehow managed to stand still and not drop it down under man's firm hand. Some blood poured down from his nose. But cop's smile grew even wider as he said

"I won't tell you anything about Mycroft Holmes. Fuck you."

His eyes closed involuntary, preparing for next hit, but it didn't come. Instead, someone walked over him from the behind and a firm grip pulled his arms back. At once, all the numbness disappeared and Lestrade could feel how much it became strained and hurt. He groaned quietly, but it was the only sound which left his mouth. Making them angry probably wasn't a good idea, but starting to talk was even worse. Greg didn't know what exactly they wanted (since, honestly, when it came to Mycroft Holmes it could be anything, from one of these ridiculously expensive and old things he kept, to demand to release a terrorist), but he decided to not give out even a glimpse.

When Gregory heard someone walked in, he forced himself to open eyes but at this moment they'd put a blindfold on them anyway. _A little to late. _He thought and was about to smile, when he felt a hot spot on his right wrist. He screamed in pain, though, it vanished as suddenly as appeared.

"So now, you're going to talk."

…

Greg didn't know how much time had passed until then, but he was thankful when he finally felt that he was swooning. His whole body hurt, especially little, burnt points on his arms, legs, and face. He could tell they'd broken his nose and cut eyebrow by the was. He wasn't also sure if his fingers were broken or it was just numbness making it impossible to move them. Still – he didn't tell them anything. When he had began to speak, there were only nonsenses leaving his lips. Lestrade felt proud of himself and hoped Mycroft would be proud too.

…

Shouts broke through his unconsciousness and made him open his eyes with an effort. He wasn't blindfolded anymore and everything was so bright and blurred and loud and strange. He heard shot and then someone untied him, delicately holding his body so he couldn't collapse. They'd given him a glass of water, but after drinking, he threw it up anyway. Someone wrapped a warm blanket around his arms and he croaked silent thanks. The same person was talking to him, definitely too loud, and convincing he couldn't fall asleep. While everything he wanted at the moment was just exactly and fall asleep and never wake up... He forced his eyes to stay open as he saw a familiar person running towards him and crying out his name.

After a time which seemed like an eternity to them, Greg drowned into Mycroft's protective embrance.

* * *

**Yes, "Government Hooker" is an actual song and belongs to Lady Gaga.**

**Thank you for every review, fav or follow, you don't even know how much it motivates me and makes me happy!**

**Dedicated to my beloved beta, and she know why ;)**


	5. Fine

_5. Fine_

_(this time loosely connected with the previous one)_

* * *

It took him almost month to fully recover after the kidnapping. Though he claimed he could manage it, they didn't let him show up in Yard during it, so most of this time, Greg was home all alone. Mycroft was hardly with him for the obvious reasons, he couldn't give up his work no matter how bad cop's malaise was. There was a nurse hired at start, but Lestrade fired her as soon as he was capable to rub along on his own. Still, he was finding silence quite awkward, so every morning he turned on the telly or the radio, just to hear someone else talking. He had also a little aversion to smoking, but it passed with time. He tried to read or simply do the crossword, but it, as well as surfing the net, was giving him a horrible headache. He was bored, and at the beginning in addition sore, to death. John and his co-workers sometimes dropped by when they had some spare time, which wasn't very often by the way, and it was Greg's main entertainment.

But it was fine.

It was all fine. Because he was already home, alive and safe. It was fine, because every morning there was a nice, hot cup of coffee waiting for him with a sweet note. It was fine, because everyday when Mycroft got back, despite his tiredness, he was doing his best to take care of Greg and spend more time with him. It was fine, because every evening, when the DI was falling asleep his lover was there, fondly holding him in his arms.

It was all fine, because he knew, there was someone worth suffering and making an effort to get better.


	6. Running away

_ 6. Running away_

* * *

"Have you ever thought about running away?"

"What do you mean?" Mycroft murmured raising an eyebrow, though he knew other man couldn't see it anyway.

They had already been in the bed, cuddled up to each other, lights switched off. Sometimes they kept just laying like that before going to sleep. Talking in whisper voices about the weather, what happened during the day, their plans for tomorrow - not really important stuff, or just remaining silence. They found it quite relaxing.

Lestrade moved himself, to rest his hands on Mycroft's chest and place his chin on top of them.

"You know, just sometimes when I need to deal with an another bloody crime scene or child homicide… or simply ton of paperwork, I'd like to get away and hide in a nice place, somewhere far away. To not have to care about it. To have a rest. And sometimes when I look at you, just off the job and coming home, exhausted-"

"Gregory, if your goal is to convince me you- _we_ need a vacation, and you want to go somewhere abroad, then I should inform you, all you have to do is jut ask."

Greg chuckled and shook his head.

"No Myc, I meant… sometimes it all… it sucks life out of me. I want to just leave everything. And you're coming back after _ruling the world_…"

"Gregory…"

"Okay, okay." Lestrade laughed. "Just the United Kingdom." Mycroft only rolled his eyes in answer. "And you look like you're feeling pretty much the same."

"But could you leave everything behind?"

Greg blinked at this sudden question and after a moment shook his head, thinking about the answer.

"No, of course not. I love my life. It just happens to be quite tiring. And would you give up the power… Oi!" He pouted as Holmes shifted dropping his head from the chest.

"Me neither" Mycroft answered after a while and rested his hand on silver haired man's hip. "And there is no time for running away, love."

"_No time for running away?_"

"No sense as well. Everything always will get you in the end. Problems to be solved will multiply and then you'll find yourself unable to make up for it. You'll drown in it knowing it was you who leaded to it."

"You know what? It's like a listening to a scarier version of fairy tale…" Greg laughed, yawning.

"Well, you where the one who asked, so-"

"I got it, I got it!" Lestrade assured with a lopsided smile. "To memorize – not ask Mycroft Holmes about existential problems ever again."

"What answer did you expect then?"

"You know what? Let's just pretend all this talking was about a vacation. I wouldn't mind it, to be honest…"

The government's official raised his eyebrow but said nothing.

"I've always wanted to see more of France, for example… " Greg yawned once again.

"Enough with running, speaking and _France, _we're going to sleep."

Lestrade chuckled and moved closer to his lover. "Good to know you're not going anywhere." He murmured closing his eyes.


	7. Acceptance

_7. Acceptance_

* * *

"Why Lestrade?"

"Why doctor Watson?"

There was a pause before Sherlock answered.

"He's just a friend."

"You didn't use to have friends."

"So did you."

Mycroft looked up at his brother and slowly motioned him to have a sit. He felt this would be a hard and long conversation. And it was a surprise for him! Of course, he didn't doubt Sherlock would have something to say when he finds out, he _always_ had something to say after all, but it didn't came. Sherlock had looked at nervous Greg, just snorted and walked away. But now, there he was - whole three months later, sitting in his older brother's cabinet with hands placed under his chin, staring at Mycroft, obviously looking for answers and trying to tell him something.

Older Holmes was carefully choosing words.

"We've changed, Sherlock. We're no longer playing by our own rules." He saw the detective was about to protest, so he continued right away after a moment. "Because there are some which don't agree with them."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a five year old child, Mycroft. I asked a simple question and I want a simple answer."

Mycroft shook his head looking at the other man like he actually _was_ a five year old.

"There are some simple questions which cannot be given a simple answer."

Sherlock waited a while before breaking the silence. "Is it about comfort? No…" He thought out loud. "Too long. Watching over me? Too late."

He got interrupted by his brother low chuckle.

"The world is not running around you, brother, didn't you know? Not everything has to be about _you._ So don't worry, you are not involved."

"But it's not the answer, if you listened carefully."

Mycroft tilted his head to the side. "I'm wondering why it is bothering you."

"He's _annoying._" Older man raised an eyebrow slightly, showing him to go on. "I can tell when you had sex, when you had a row, if you'll be dining together that day or that you're away for a trip and he needs to sleep all alone. I can see it. I can hear it. It screams through him. It's annoying."

"Well, I can't do anything about him. If you're just concerned – I can assure you, we're doing very well."

"Of course I am not concerned. I don't care how are you doing. I want to know _why._"

"Why we are living together? Why we are making love? Why we are argu-"

"Mycroft."

Mycroft smiled innocently. "What is it?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and did not seem to be willing to repeat his question.

Mycroft carefully studied his face for a while.

_Oh._

It made perfect sense now. Sherlock didn't want to insult, Sherlock wanted to understand. He tried to understand on his own, but since he failed, something he would never admit he did, he came here, to his brother. Mycroft for a moment felt like they were both children again.

Older Holmes rolled his eyes slightly. "It's not that easy to explain, Sherlock."

Sherlock clenched his jaw, still looking at him, but eventually said. "Does he make you happy?"

"Pardon?" Mycroft blinked a few times. He was genuinely surprised at the moment. Question just came out of blue.

"You heard me very well."

Ginger haired cleared his throat quietly before speaking. "Yes."

"Do you truly want to be with him?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever let you down?"

"Y- No! Never."

"Do you want to make him happy?"

"Yes. Of course. Sherlock, for goodness sake, what kind of question they are!"

"I… I have just…" Stammering Sherlock? Something new. "I've…"

"Come one, say it."

"I've just wanted to… make sure."

"Make sure about what?"

Younger man shifted in his place, dropping sight to his hands.

"That you're happy."

Mycroft was speechless for a moment. Then he smiled and shook his head. "You are unbelievable, Sherlock." He whispered. "Thank you, we're perfectly happy. But I still cannot see why-"

"I accept it. This… relationship." Sherlock hesitated for a moment before adding. "John said I should let you know."

Older man had a desire to stand up and just hug him. To express his gratitude. Sherlock's… no, his little brother's acceptance… it really meant a lot to him. It was something important.

But instead, Mycroft just smiled warmly and nodded his head.

"Thank you."

"I just have one request."

"Go on."

"Stop having sex in the morning." Mycroft looked at Sherlock with surprise on his face. "I can't stand smell of your Cologne on him everyday."

…

_"Sherlock asked me for one thing today."_

"_What was it?"_

"_Actually, he asked __**us**__."_

_The DI raised an eyebrow. _

"_To stop having sex in the shower."_

_Greg chocked on his tea and wasn't able to talk for a while. _

"_WHAT!? Why- No, wait, how does he even KNOW about it?!"_

"_Oh, don't worry, he doesn't know." Mycroft laughed. "He just said you smell like me."_

_Lestrade just groaned and hid his blushing face in hands._

* * *

**Hello!**

**Due to Luckyfreak's sickness and my bad temper, we decided to have a day off. Unfortunately, for some reasons I wasn't able to post also yestrerday. I'm terribly sorry for it. But now I'm back and I shouldn't have any problems :)**

**Thank you all for faves and follows! I just would like to ask for some reviews. It's really a _challange_ for me to write some proper stuff in English since it's not my first language. I'd love to know if it's worth my effort.**

** That's why it would be really great, if you told me how are you feeling about it!**

**Kisses,**

**Luixza**


	8. Goosebumps

_8. Goosebumps_

* * *

Mycroft was never really fond of the idea owning a motorcycle. Most of his mates at the uni had it, but he didn't have an urge to posses one was well. When he was watching these idiots showing of for the chicks, it was giving him a goosebumps of disgust. According to him, it was too loud and too dangerous and too… _flashy_. And he was thinking like that whole life. When young Sherlock had an idea to learn how to ride a motorbike, older Holmes even had bought him a car just to prevent it.

He wasn't very happy when it turned out that Gregory owned an old Honda CX 500c. Mycroft even tried to convince his lover to sell it, but Lestrade claimed it had a sentimental value and he was not going to give it away. Still, he didn't want to promise he wouldn't get on it again. It ended up as a serious fight. That night, they slept separate.

Mycroft eventually agreed to keep the bike in the garage of their small house in the outskirts.

Much later, when both of them had already forgotten about it, they were spending there a few days off during summer. Unfortunately, Holmes was called in some important matters, and Greg found himself all alone for a few hours. Out of boredom, he decided to get Honda out of the garage and check it. The machine turned up to be in a quite good condition. It was nearly sunset when the government's official got back and saw his partner pulling it out in order to have a ride.

Mycroft froze in his place when he saw it. But he didn't frown and scowl at the bike like he would most probably did every other day. He just stood and stared. Not even at the device, but at its owner. Lestrade was wearing a simple t-shirt, a leather jacket which probably had seen the better times with matching gloves, a pair of worn out black leather trousers and motorcycle boots reaching to his mid-calf. And he looked so damn sexy. Holmes almost regretted he didn't allow the cop to get out his dear Honda earlier. He inhaled deeply coming back to himself before walking over to Lestrade.

"Gregory…" He started carefully, not wanting to start another row.

"Hey, Myc" Greg grinned at him while wiping off the dust from the helmet.

"What are you doing?"

"And what do ya think I'm doin'?" The DI laughed and put the helmet on the seat. "Wanna join me?"

"Join you in what? Repairing?" Mycroft asked frowning slightly.

Older man leaned up to kiss his lover's cheek. "'f course not, it's already done. Change into something more comfortable and I'll take you for a ride."

The government's official slowly shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea…"

"Oh, c'mon! Just once and if you don't like it, I won't force you anymore."

Mycroft glanced at the machine with distrust.

"Don't tell me you're afraid" Lestrade chuckled and was given an immediate reaction. Holmes clenched his jaw and walked towards the door.

After a few minutes he was back, his suit replaced with a pair of jeans and a more casual shirt. Greg, already in his helmet, smiled widely and threw him a spare one. He get on the motorbike and waited for his partner to join him. Mycroft bit his lip and carefully sat behind.

"Where are we going?"

"Just a round or two around the neighborhood so I could show you why I used to love this."

Holmes just rolled his eyes and shifted a little on the seat, trying to make himself comfortable.

"You've never done this before, have you?" Greg asked with laughter and received a nudge in his back. "'kay, 'kay, I know, it's nothing wrong with it. But you need to move closer or you would fall. Yeah, just like that. Wrap your arms around my waist and hold me tight. Exactly."

Mycroft did as he was told, burying his face in cop's shoulder and murmuring. "Go on, before I will change my mind." Even though it was pretty warm, he felt a goosebumps forming on his back.

Man's chuckle became interrupted by a engine and soon they were wandering around in the nice light of the warm sunset.

When they came home it was already dark and Mycroft thanked God for it. He wobbly get of the bike and slowly headed to the door ignoring his lover's asks to wait until he would park Honda.

Holmes didn't even turn the lights on, just pulled himself into the kitchen and heavily collapsed on the chair. Soon, he heard the doors opening and letting Greg in.

"Mycroft?" Man called out hesitantly.

"Kitchen" Mycroft croaked in answer, clumsy rolling his sleeves up. It was so damn hot in there suddenly…

Lestrade came in and switched the lights on looking at the other man with a wide grin.

"So did you- Oh my God!" In one moment his expression turned from extremely happy to extremely worried and he was next to the government's official in a few jumps.

"Mycroft! Are you alright?" He tenderly touched man's cheeks and forehead. "Your face is red and so hot… You have a fever for sure. You have a goosebumps too… did you catch a cold?" Lestrade's chilly lips rested for a moment on his burning temple and Holmes groaned quietly.

"No, it's just… it's nothing." Mycroft muttered weakly and closed his eyes to avoid the expression of world spinning before him.

"Hold on for a moment more, I'll make us some tea and you'll go straight to the bed." Greg stepped back to do as he said. "Honestly, you should have told me if you didn't feel well, I would never force you-"

Suddenly trembling, but still quite strong arms turned him around and the DI only managed to gasp in protest, before hot lips covered his own. He smirked against them, when he saw Mycroft's eager eyes staring in his. Taller man pushed him a little, causing Lestrade's back to bump into the edge of the counter. Holmes delicately rocked his hips forward letting out a suppressed moan into the kiss. Lestrade smiled even wider feeling a slight pressure on his thigh where Mycroft's groin was touching it. It told him all about the correct reason of these goosebumps. He pulled his head back slowly, grinning.

"I think I should take you for a ride far more often." Greg laughed.

"Indeed. But now do shut up and deal with_ the consequences._" Mycroft answered leading other man's hands to his belt.

* * *

**Yeah, I'm sorry. Again. Just didn't expect parents to be so... strict about the hours.**

**Lestrade's motorcycle. Well, it's my headcanon. As well as that what Mycroft's going through after having a look of Greg whole leather-dressed and having a ride with him. And that's something I'm definitely not sorry for. |D**

**So enjoy, and I'm looking forward to see your reviews!**


	9. Umbrella

_9. Umbrella _

_(just so you wouldn't be confused – the timeline is before G and M started to live together)_

* * *

Mycroft's umbrella _does not_ had a sword in it.

No matter what Sherlock kept saying, Mycroft found the idea rather too… _theatrical. _However, once while drunk, Greg promised John to check it. And he tried to do it on every possible occasion. But Holmes was very well aware of it and was doing his best in this little game. There were many times Lestrade almost did it, almost got the umbrella in his hands and examined it, but his lover seemed to always know when he should show up. Still, he didn't catch Greg red-handed, but successfully kept preventing it.

Finally, one day, the government's official had to leave Gregory's flat in a hurry and, thanks to his PA, didn't take the umbrella with him. Lestrade didn't find the sword, but he liked the thing. It was really nice and well-made. As well as handy and good looking and just so… _Mycroftish. _

Holmes found out their game was over and the parasol came back to its owner. But he let the DI borrow it every now and then.

Eventually, the umbrella started to vanish more often and one day Mycroft couldn't find it at all. He was just about to scowl on Anthea (which seemed to like that name and was using it quite often), when Greg let himself into his office, grinning, with Holmes' umbrella swinging from his arm. The government's smiled slightly and bought himself a new umbrella.

* * *

**Well, yes, another headcanon. I don't know if you noticed, but Mycroft had two different umbrellas in first and second series. That's what I think about it. xD**


	10. Lesson

_10. Lesson_

* * *

"Gregory, please, let me work." Mycroft said narrowing his eyes and trying to focus on the piece of paper in front of him.

But Greg didn't find it very interesting to observe working man (of course, he loved to observe Mycroft, but honestly, there was absolutely nothing seductive in doing dull paperwork…). He was yawning every now and then, feeling his eyes slowly closing. It was his day off and he hoped for something more entertaining. At least cuddling up and watching the telly or a walk.

"My…" he called out again after a while, shifting in his armchair.

"Yes?"

"Can't we go out now?"

"No."

"Why?" Lestrade whined.

"Because I have something to do."

"Can't you do it later?"

"No."

"Whyyy?"

"Because I am obligated to finish it today."

The DI pouted but managed to keep quiet for a few minutes more, before speaking again.

"You know, we could– "

"With all my love to you, Gregory, do shut up."

"But–"

Lestrade jumped in his place when Mycroft suddenly stood up, hitting the desk with his hands.

"Stand up." He ordered.

The cop was too surprised to give any questions and just did as he was said.

Holmes slowly walked around the furniture and stopped in front of his lover, eyeing him. He reached out to man's collar after straightening it a little, let his hands rest for a moment on Gregory's chest.

Greg usually didn't wear shirts at home, just sometimes, when he wanted to please Mycroft or they had a dinner out planned. Now, Mycroft was really glad his lover put on the shirt with many small buttons. He started to unhurriedly work on each of them, avoiding touching man's bare skin. Greg grinned immediately moving his hands to undo Mycroft's shirt too, but he pulled them away.

"No, Gregory dear, stay still."

Cop was a little surprised, but nodded his head.

After finishing, Holmes reached down to undo the cuffs. When it was done, Mycroft slightly pulled the sleeves down.

Lestrade let the shirt slide from his body without a blink. He didn't know what was the government's official's plan, but he wasn't afraid. Rather pleased with that unexpected twist.

Holmes delicately, in almost ticklish gesture, brushed his fingertips against cop's chest, looking into his eyes.

"Keep quiet. I do not want to hear a single sound leaving your mouth." He said with an emotionless face. "Understood?"

Greg took a deep breath and nodded his head. Mycroft delicately pushed up other man's chin to have better access to his neck. He slowly leaned down and inhaled Lestrade's pleasant scent, breathing with slightly parted lips, so his every exhaust was causing a goosebumps on his partner's skin. Then, he moved closer and eventually his lips touched Gregory's neck. He stayed like that for a moment, before trailing a way down, to silver haired man's collarbone and there, he slipped just a tip of his tongue out, teasing soft skin. Greg let out a short gasp but collected himself as soon as he noticed that his lover frozen in his place and was looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

The DI swallowed and muttered. "Sorry."

Mycroft after a while moved along other man's shoulder, biting it slightly. Lestrade clenched his jaw. He could do it. He could resist, he could–

"Ah!" Unconsciously left his mouth at the sudden warm around his right nipple. When it disappeared, he looked down, holding back a whine. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't."

Holmes nodded slightly and came back to lick and suck onto the tender flesh. Greg curled his fingers into the fists and his knuckles became white. Mycroft knew too well how to cause Gregory's reaction and shorter man started to regret he had said anything. If he waited, maybe Mycroft would eventually end his work and take him out for a dinner, instead of teasing him now with unclear intentions.

Mycroft finally let go and the cop noticed he was holding his breath all this time. He didn't know how long he could still handle it, but he also realized, that even though he hated being teased, he didn't really want his lover to stop. But he wanted to touch him as well. To feel this soft skin under his fingers. To hear Mycroft's moan.

He hissed quietly when the government's official moved to work on the left nipple. His hands rested on Lestrade's waist, holding him in place, and for a moment man hoped there was something more to come. But it didn't and Greg only shut his eyes closed trying to stay quiet, when he felt his partner's tongue. The cop couldn't help but helplessly jerked his hips forward with a small cry.

"Myc…"

"Shut up." Mycroft murmured around his nipple and slowly moved back, deciding it was not _safe _to go further.

"Lesson number one." He said standing straight and leaning forward to lick Lestrade's earlobe. Greg shivered, holding back a groan.

"Keep quiet when asked, and you'll eventually get your reward." Mycroft whispered into man's ear and kissed his neck one more time before turning around and sitting behind his desk. "Now please, let me finish my work in silence and I promise, you won't regret it."

Lestrade stood there for a moment trying to come back to breathe normally and prevent his body from furthers reactions at Holmes' domineering voice.

"And put something on, you're rather distracting like that." Mycroft added not even looking up from his files.

Greg eventually nodded his head, clumsy pulled on the shirt and sink into the armchair, blushing.

* * *

**I want to dedicate this one to my friend, Julia. I know you'd like to read something... more XD but I hope you will like it too. Thanks for reading, dear!**

**And dear readers, after reading, leave a review, please. I'd like to know what you think about all this stuff I post here :)**


	11. Everyday Magic

_11. Everyday Magic_

* * *

If you asked, if there was a thing Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade were sure it would not appear in their live, both of them would answer _routine_.

Though their life full of schedules, it was far from routine. Some would also said it was far from happiness, but these two thought something else.

Well, of course, there were days or sometimes even week, not very often thanks God, when they didn't see each other more than late at night or didn't have a proper talk. Sometimes, after getting home they were too tired and exhausted to do anything more than just cuddle up on the sofa and lay watching the telly. Although, they didn't object – they knew from the start how it was going to be like. They had both agreed.

But it taught them how important and precious were the smallest gestures. Quick kiss in the morning, short phone call during the lunch time. Those were the little things giving their life some magic. And eventually, when they got their days off together, it was like a reward for all these moments apart. And then Mycroft and Greg knew, it was worth all the effort. They knew, they just couldn't find better.


	12. Patience

_12. Patience_

* * *

Mycroft smiled slightly to himself seeing his lover's jacket on the hatrack. He stayed still for a moment to listen, where possibly the man was and heard suppressed voices from the upstairs. An evening with Gregory, how nice. Although, Holmes decided the cop could wait a little more and headed to the kitchen first. He was surprised by the already made meal waiting for him on the counter with a note attached to it. Mycroft got the piece of paper and read it with an amusement.

_Didn't wait, sorry! Come when you'll be done, waiting in the bedroom. G_

Mycroft smiled and patiently ignored unwashed dishes, thinking, that there would be time to deal with them later.

Eventually, the government's official went up the stairs and was about going to the told room, when something drew his attention. Something on the floor, just next to the bathroom's doors and something what definitely shouldn't be there. A tie. Man bent to collect it, rolling his eyes. Greg when tired, had a habit to leave his clothes before the bath _everywhere_. (Next morning there was usually a contest titled _Who will find more of Gregory Lestrade's clothing._ And usually, Mycroft won.) Holmes decided to enter the room and this time wasn't very surprised as he saw his partner's things almost all over the room. The government's official sighed and patiently picked every one of them, that was, also with socks and the boxers. He threw them to the laundry basket and made sure everything else was okay before leaving the bathroom.

Opening the bedroom's door caused the sounds spill over the entire floor. Sounds, which turned out to be music. Very loud and noisy music. Mycroft narrowed his eyes and reached out to turn the music player off, his ears welcoming nice silent with a relief. However, someone protested. It was an incomprehensible mutter, going from a person sprawling across the bed. Holmes walked over to the edge, and smiled gently, shaking his head, when he saw his lover sleeping on his belly, crosswise the mattress. There were CD boxes and booklets scattered all over the sheet, around him. He wasn't even fully dressed, just in his jammies trousers. Mycroft held back laugher when Greg murmured something in his sleep, something about Holmes, but he wasn't really sure about which one. After a while of observing the man, the government's official started to quietly gather all the things in order to put them back on place. When he finally finished, Mycroft got himself dressed in the pyjamas and started to climb on the bed. He was thinking, how could he move Lestrade, when he felt fingers clenching loosely around the wrist. Holmes looked down to see Gregory slowly waking up. The cop smiled softly at the face above him, but then sat up immediately, realizing something.

"Mycroft! You're back."

"Yes, indeed." Mycroft smiled politely.

Greg looked around and then back at his lover with surprise in his eyes. "Where...?"

"I cleaned it up."

"Umm… Yes, sorry. And thanks."

"As well as the bathroom."

Lestrade covered his face with hand and shook his head. "Oh shit. Sorry, My. I know you are tired and… I meant to clean it but it seems I fell asleep. Really, I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry. Thank you for the dinner, it was lovely."

Greg closed his eyes, groaning. "I didn't wash the dishes, did I?"

"You didn't." Mycroft chuckled. "But don't worry, they _are waiting_ for you to take care of them."

"Good, I'll do it in the morning."

"As far as I can remember… you have a morning shift tomorrow."

"Uh, can in wait till the evening, please?"

"Of course, I'm patient. I _need_ to be." He laughed.

* * *

**Shawn, this one is dedicated to you. Because your review made me jump out of bed and write with a big grinn on my face. Thank you! I'm glad you like my work!**


	13. Excuses

_13. Excuses_

* * *

A silent sound of the porcelain being put on the table snapped Mycroft out of his thoughts. He slowly moved his sight to the man sitting opposite. Gregory smiled at him happily, with a big cake on the plate in front of him. The government's official swallowed and looked aside when his lover took a strawberry from the top and after licking the cream from it, put the fruit into his mouth.

Lestrade sent Mycroft another grin and said. "I don't mind sharin', you know. If you want a piece I'll give you."

"Thank you, Gregory, but no." Holmes answered politely, sipping the tea and looking at Greg and his sweets with just the corner of his eye.

Man didn't bother with getting the fork and just took some cream on the finger, before sucking it off with a content smile on his face. Politician knew Lestrade wasn't doing it on purpose, but couldn't help his fingers gripping around the cup. Gregory seemed to notice it, well, he had already learnt every detail was important when it came to Holmeses, and slightly raised an eyebrow.

"Really, Myc, I'll… Oh. Is it because of Sherlock?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"What?" Mycroft answered automatically and turned his head to glance at the other man.

"I mean, you don't really have to believe in what Sherlock keeps telling you. You look fine. Hell, much better than just fine and I think I can tell I know about it very well." Greg ended with a chuckle.

"No, it's… Yes. My brother." The government's official murmured but rather half-hearted, peeking aside. Lestrade shook his head with disapproval.

Holmes rested hands on his knees and clenched them into the fists as the cop pulled up another strawberry. He was still chewing on it, when he started to talk.

"Don't worry, there is no mint in there." He assured breaking off a small piece and reaching his hand out towards Mycroft. The government's official tempted, however just shook his head and muttered something about having no appetite for sweets today.

Greg shrugged and ate the piece on his own, just a tip of his tongue slipping out to lick crumbs from his fingers. Holmes just _couldn't _look away and felt the pink blush slowly going up his neck.

"It's delicious" The DI grinned. "Really, you should try." He stopped for a moment and tilted his head.

"Everything's okay? You look a little bit… strained." Greg added again deepening his finger in the white cream.

Mycroft's lip twitched and he slightly leaned back in the chair to reduce a slight pressure appearing in his trousers. When he realized his lover gave him a question, he nodded his head.

"I'm not sure, Myc… you should take a nap."

"It's alright. I'm just a little tired after this meeting in the morning…"

"Here, have some sugar, you really do not look well" Lestrade lifted his hand and moved it towards his partner.

The cop watched with a surprise as Mycroft, now with pink cheeks, suddenly stood up and almost _ran_; almost, because _a gentlemen will walk but never run; _with not very happy expression on his face.

Greg pouted and sank in his chair.

"What even have I done…?"

* * *

**I didn't post anything on Sunday again. I don't know, it's just like a some kind of curse. XD Maybe I should just put on the warning _No new chapters on Sundays? _**

**I hope you'd like this one at least a little, since I had an idea (my friend, hello Julia it's about you indeed, molested me about strawberries, don't ask xD) and I was really excited about it, but it didn't turn out how I wanted it too o: **

**Well, nevermind, thanks for reading and leaving reviews :)**


	14. Bitter Silence

_14. Bitter Silence_

* * *

Greg was wandering around chilly and misty London. He swore when he walked into a puddle and felt more water getting in his already wet shoes. Besides, he was wearing just a thin coat grabbed while hastily leaving home and nothing else what could possibly protect him from the cold.

Back then, he didn't really care about it, he just wanted to get out. Spend some time in the silence. Get away from Mycroft. Holmes eventually crossed the line. It seemed that he couldn't understand Gregory was a grown up man and could properly take care of himself on his own. That he didn't need any special surveillance all the time.

Gregory cringed under the coat, biting his lower lip. He thought they had agreed on something. Greg not being interested in his partner's cases. Not interfering in each other's work. Mycroft not going too far with his concern and attempts to ensure the cop's safety.

But it turned out that Holmes just didn't trust him. Not at all.

The words Lestrade just shouted in sudden burst of rage, which were reflected on the government's official face as a heart-breaking sorrow. The DI started to regret it, but anyway was angry with Mycroft and still did not want to get back home. It would end with either him apologizing Mycroft, or the row continuation and neither of them was a good idea to spend the evening. It's not that Lestrade minded apologizing, although he was sure he was right, but he could tell what the atmosphere would be like. Definitely not light and nice.

Man frowned when he saw with a corner of his eye a black luxurious car with dimmed windows, obviously moving after him. Gregory looked away and started to walk faster, even though he knew it was impossible to lost the car. Surprisingly, it stopped and Lestrade was just about to smile victoriously when he heard the door opening and a young woman calling out after him.

"Sir" Mycroft's PA smiled politely handing him an umbrella and the keys. Greg croaked silent "Thank you", it the end it was not the poor woman he was angry with, and delicately grabbed her arm when she wanted to turn and go away. The cop was hesitating for a while and she raised an eyebrow.

Lestrade collected himself and asked hoarsely. "Is he… with you? I mean… in the car?"

The PA shook her head. "No. Would you like a lift home?"

"Umm… no, thank you. I'll walk for a little more." He answered and the woman soon disappeared back in the vehicle.

The cop opened the umbrella and put the keys is his pocket, sighing. He didn't want to go home yet, but wandering around with wet clothes on didn't seem like a good idea and he had no other place to go. Greg sneezed and winced after that. For a moment he even considered going to 221b but it was rather a ridiculous idea.

_Hey Sherlock, I had a row with your dear brother, would you mind me spending the night?_

Man snorted and eventually decided to head the home, playing the coming conversation in his head.

He was welcomed by dark windows, as well as the empty and silent hallway. Everything was tied up and tucked into closets so for a moment man had an expression he was living there all alone. He frowned hanging the coat and the umbrella, then toed off his shoes and kicked them aside. He blindly threw the keys on the counter in the kitchen and stretching his arms walked to the bathroom in order to take a relaxing shower before facing Holmes.

But when he entered the bedroom, the _empty _bedroom, he reminded himself what his lover had been talking about before the fight started. A conference in Eastern Europe. Well, probably there.

Lestrade sat on the edge of the bed. Not being able to talk with the other man and somehow finish the subject made him feel even more guilty. He knew he had his point, but he started to think that maybe he had treated Mycroft too harshly. He was aware, well, he hoped, Holmes would be back in a few days or so and everything would be alright, but for now it seemed like his partner was gone forever. And this bitter silence he though they'd left behind after a talk wasn't doing any better. Greg hesitated and reached for the phone, but eventually decided Mycroft had already had his own turned off. Man threw the mobile under the pillow and collapsed on his back.

These were going to be really long _few _days.

* * *

**Didn't post yesterday because of the hockey match. I managed to do it today *^*, I was afraid I would have to apologize you tomorrow since my internet didn't want to cooperate, but I'm lucky and eventually it came back. At least for now.**

**I don't know if these problems will keep on appearing, so sorry in advance!**


	15. Colors

_15. Colors_

* * *

"Umm… Mycroft? What are you doing?"

Greg just came into the room, which was meant to be his future study (since Mycroft _insisted_). What he saw was rather unexpected. All the already bought furniture were gathered in the middle of the room and hidden under the foil. Next to them stood Mycroft. Mycroft in a _loose t-shirt_, Greg's most probably; and _jeans_. Whole covered in blue stains.

"Hello."

Lestrade tried to hold it back, but after a moment started to laugh.

Mycroft folded his arms and glanced at his lover with raised eyebrows. "What's so funny?"

"S-sorry." Greg gasped through laughter. "So? What are you doing?" He asked eventually gesturing at the inside of the room. "Since as far as I can remember you didn't agree at the repainting…?"

"I've changed my mind." Mycroft answered and dropped the brush he was holding into a bucket.

"How so?" Lestrade asked both surprised and confused. "I thought _blue is a distracting and highly inappropriate color for an office _?"

The other man glanced around. "It doesn't look that bad at all. Besides, it's going to be your room. You should be the one feeling good in it."

"Wow." Greg stepped more inside to take a better look. "You did it on your own? I'm impressed."

Holmes rolled his eyes. "Honestly, fact that I'm a politician doesn't state I can't do anything else."

"I know, sorry." The DI smiled warmly at him. "But I don't think sudden feelings to the blue color made you do this. I'm no Sherlock Holmes but I can tell there's something more behind it." Mycroft wanted to protest, but Lestrade continued his statement. "Don't tell me there's another posh ball tomorrow or meeting somewhere at the end of the world where I won't get you even through Skype…?" He groaned, prepared for the worst.

The government's official shook his head and with a slight smile walked over the other man. He hesitantly linked their fingers together. "I wanted it to be my small thank you."

"You don't really need to-"

This time Mycroft interrupted the silver haired man. "Not for that ridiculous case. And no, don't say a word about watching over my brother." Gregory chuckled. "Thank you for being. Here. With me. For bringing, well, colors to my life." Mycroft smiled and watched for a while as his lover was fighting with something called perhaps emotion, before eventually spoke.

"You are very welcome, my dear."

* * *

**And the first half is done now! Yo ho~!**


	16. Breakfast

_16. Breakfast_

* * *

Greg lazily turned onto his back and slowly opened eyes. It was a nice, sunny day and he could stay like that forever, and it'd be best if Myc was with him…_ Mycroft._ He was supposed to get up later.

Lestrade suddenly sat up and grabbed his phone, only to peek at the screen and let out a loud groan.

…

Mycroft chuckled when he heard a groan from the bedroom. He knew he should wake the other man up earlier, but Gregory looked so peaceful in his sleep and Holmes didn't have the heart to do it.

He was already fully dressed and now sipped his morning tea in the kitchen, waiting for the other man with the breakfast. After a few minuets the DI almost ran into the room. He was already shaved but his hair was a mess and he was clumsy doing up his shirt. Man shot a death glare towards his lover and Holmes just laughed in the answer.

"Why didn't you wake me up!? You knew I was supposed to be in the Yard earlier today!"

"Sorry, love." Mycroft smiled and walked over Lestrade with a toast in his hand. He passed it to the man and started to button his shirt as Greg was eating. "Dun foget net time, pwease" He said chewing in the same time.

"Gregory Lestrade" Holmes chided on him but still was smiling. "Don't talk with your mouth full." The cop rolled his eyes but swallowed before apologizing quickly and biting into another piece.

"I didn't forget." The taller man added after a while, pushing his partner's shirt into the trousers and then taking a tie from other's shoulder. "I decided you needed some rest."

Gregory chuckled at these words. "Well, thank you dear, I really appreciate it, but my boss can not be that _caring_ about me."

"Any problems with your superior?" The government's official asked with a raised eyebrow but didn't look up from the tie he was knotting on Lestrade's neck at the moment.

The DI just groaned reaching for his coffee to the table and sipping almost the whole mug at once. "My, please, leave it be."

Holmes shrugged and patted his shoulder. "Ready."

"Thank you, love." Greg pecked his lover's lips while hastily pulling on the jacket. "What about you? Unexpected day off?"

Mycroft leaned against the table and shook his head. "No, but my first meeting was cancelled. Well, that's not important now. Better go or I'll really have to do something with your boss."

Lestrade nodded chuckling and ran towards the door, grabbing the keys by the way. "Oh!" He stopped in the doorframe and grinned a Mycroft which was now standing in the hallway. "Thank you for the breakfast."


	17. Amuse

_17. Amuse_

* * *

When John and Greg were out for the pint, they talked about anything, but their lives with Holmes brothers. Sometimes they complained while drunk, but usually it was not their subject. Greg never talked about his relationship with Mycroft, John never talked about Sherlock's new experiments nor ways to kill the boredom.

But once, just once, Watson couldn't hold on his curiosity and asked "Does Mycroft ever say _I am not amused_?" When the DI heard it, he almost choke on his beer, laughing. He shook his head and grinned. "I'll make him."

Since then, Lestrade tried numerous ways to hear the phrase from his lover's lips.

He was listening to bands he used to like when he was young and knew Mycroft wasn't very fond of. He was listening really loud. And singing. It didn't work.

He asked Mycroft about his diet. Too many times per day. It didn't work.

He was forcing Mycroft to watch stupid films together and laughed all the way trough, observing the other man's not very happy face.. It didn't work.

He ate Mycrof's cake. It didn't work.

He joked about the Holmeses' childhood. It didn't work.

While cooking, he was composing strange images with food and grinned sheepishly passing the plate to Mycroft. It didn't work.

He misplaced all the government's official ties and without hesitation, laughing, admitted he did it in front of irritated Holmes. It didn't work.

He stole Mycroft's towel, when the other man was in the shower and then refused to give it back. (well, he got chided, but seeing wet and hardly covered Mycroft wandering around the flat was his reward) It didn't work anyway.

He even dared to take Mycroft's favorite umbrella and was walking around the apartment, parodying him. Still, it didn't work.

One day, Sherlock almost jumped into the Thames after the evidence, but Greg had prevented him. Instead, he was the one in the cold water. Mycroft showed up almost immediately to both, talk to his brother and pick up Lestrade by the way. John and Greg were talking quietly when the older Holmes was giving Sherlock a lecture. They weren't paying much attention as they knew what was it all about, just glancing at the brothers from time to time. When the detective snorted they watched as Mycroft narrowed his eyes, clenched the jaw and spoke.

"I am not amused, Sherlock. You have to…"

Both of men didn't even listen to the rest of the sentence, bursting into laugh and almost crying in it.

"Ten pounds, Greg." John gasped eventually and clapped Lestrade's shoulder.

"Oi! Shouldn't it be mine? He said it!"

Watson grinned. "But it wasn't because of you."

"Well, if all I needed to do was pushing Sherlock into the river I wouldn't hesitate even for a moment."

They started to laugh again earning the odd looks from the Holmeses.

* * *

**Look! You've got a story on Sunday! It's Christmass! xD**

**Anyway. Most probably one of the next chapters (idk, one at the moment, maybe more) will have increased rating, so beware. I don't want to rate up whole challange so I'll just write down the warnings at the beggining. Hope you wouldn't mind that!**

**Thanks for reading and please, leave a review, there's no better way to motivate me!**

**Oh, and one more thing so you won't be confused. Yes, I changed my pen name from... reasons ^ :D. I was truly surprised when that one turned out to be unused! So hello my dears, I'm TheGov from now!**


	18. Stress

_18. Stress_

* * *

"You're starting to imitate Sherlock."

"What?" Greg looked up from his crossword only to see Mycroft staring at the telly with a frown. Man turned his head, which was actually laying in Holmes' lap, to check if something there drew his lover's attention that much he started to talk to himself.

"I'm talking about you, love. You're sta-"

"Yes, yes, I perfectly heard what you said." Lestrade cut in, going back to his entertainment. However, after a while the curiosity won. He folded the newspaper on his chest and peeked up at the government's official. "How so?"

The other man didn't look at him, just ran his hand along Greg's arm. The cop rolled up his sleeves before, so the three nicotine patches pasted there were now fully exposed.

"You know I'm giving up."

"But three?"

"They're weak."

Mycroft eventually glanced down. "Yes. Actually, you have been giving up since we got together."

"You know it's hard, don't you?" Lestrade pouted. "How long have _you_ been giving up smoking?" Holmes again locked his sight on the screen. "Myc?" When there was no answer, Greg nudged the other man. "Mycroft Holmes, you have given up smoking, haven't you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mycroft quietly cleared his throat.

"You haven't…?" The cop muttered with resignation in his voice, feeling whole his motivation starting to sail away.

"I have." Holmes assured straightening up in the seat. "It's just a cigarette on nervous situations."

"Of all people, you are dealing with the stress that way?"

"It helps to think. I assume that's something you know very well."

"And how many stressful situations do you get, let's say… per a week?"

The government's official hesitated for a moment. "It depends."

"An average?"

"It would be around… two or three I suppose."

"You see? My each patch for your one cigarette" Greg answered mockingly receiving just a roll of Mycroft's eyes in return. "But I'm serious now" He added after a moment, reaching for a remote control and then switching the telly off. "You need to find another way to deal with stress."

"Like what?" Mycroft cocked up his eyebrow and asked with a quiet sound close to the snort. Honestly, if there was a way, he would give up the smoking long time ago. Especially, seeing his lover's efforts to do the same.

"Sex?"

Holmes actually snorted.

"A cake?"

"I though it was going to be a serious conversation."

"Just teasing" Greg rolled his eyes and leaned up to peck the politician's lips. He looked at the ceiling thoughtfully for a while, before eventually turning to lay on his belly and spreading the newspaper over Mycroft's lap. "Youngest country?"

"Kosovo." Holmes answered without a blink. "Gregory, no. I'm not going to solve your crossword." He added narrowing his eyes.

"C'mon, it's fun! And a nice method to get rid of stress, actually." Lestrade grinned up at his lover and wrote the word down in the squares.

"I fail to see what about answering obvious questions is so nervousness-helping."

"For example (C6H10O5)450***** ?"

"Starch" Mycroft said without actually even thinking about it.

"You see? You're good at it!"

"As I said, these questions are just… _elementary._" The politician murmured looking around.

Greg shoved the remote under his back so Mycroft couldn't get it back that easy. "Electress of Hanover?"

"Sophia"

"It wasn't that elementary at all."

"And it wasn't even in your crossword."

"And you're not stressed anymore."

The government's official rolled his eyes slightly and stroked his lover's head. "I'm at home, with you, I don't see any reason for me to be stressed."

"At home, with me _and_ doing crossword. It really helps to relax and forget about everything. Try it sometimes instead of taking another cigarette. And don't worry" Mycroft gave him a puzzled expression and Greg grinned. "I'll give you some patches."

* * *

_***that's the chemical formula for startch. Fanfiction doesn't allow subscripts so it looks like it looks...**_

**I know I promised you something M-rated, but don't you worry, you'll get it! Soon, soon, veeery soon :)**

**Read & review! :)**


	19. Troubling Thoughts

_ 19. Troubling Thoughts_

_**[RATED M**_

_**WARNINGS: M/M GRAPHIC SLASH, ANAL PLUG USE, TEASING just a little;**_

_**DON'T READ IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SOMETHING, GO AHEAD AND SKIP THIS ONE]**_

* * *

...

**How is my favorite politician? **

_Perfectly fine, thank you. – MH_

**Oh, I'm sure, I was rather hoping for… further description. ;)**

Mycroft snorted at his lover impudence and put his mobile into the drawer, not even bothering with sending an answer. He knew what the other man meant. Of course he knew. It was really hard not to know when the way you spent almost whole morning was actually shifting in the chair in order to sit comfortable and ignore the plug shoved in your arse. The toy wasn't very big – but too big to forget, yet too short to give any proper pleasure. Just distracting.

Holmes wasn't really sure how and when he'd even agreed on it. But well, it didn't matter at all, now the main aim was to _survive_. The morning went surprisingly good. Often moving and standing up wasn't required so the government's official's body had its time to… adjust. Gregory kept sending him texts every now and then trying to break him, to provoke him, however, Mycroft managed to ignore them.

The list of clients to meet at the office eventually had ended and there the meetings started. Meetings meant walking. Walking meant moving. And moving meant, well…

But he was Mycroft Holmes. He could do it.

At least he thought so.

…

**Is your chair comfortable?**

_Not really, though, thank you for your concern. – MH_

**What a shame, it has to bother you…**

Greg chose the moment to start his offensive once again and Mycroft found himself peeking at the mobile screen more often than he should during the conference. He couldn't concentrate on the speaker, but he had to keep his mind busy, somehow. Deducing politicians seemed to be the only entertainment he could get. His sight started to slowly slid from one to another, but their presences and lives weren't really occupying. Notwithstanding, Mycroft continued, preventing some… trouble thoughts from appearing.

As he moved to the other one, he thought for a moment the gray-haired man looked quite familiar, but when Holmes blinked the expression disappeared.

When the lecture finally ended, Mycroft hastily got away, avoiding conversation with a man two inches shorter than him and a few other because they smelled like smoke and frosting.

Unfortunately some idiots decided to have a walkout, and the government's official was called to an emergency meeting. An emergency meeting which almost ended up with an emergency visit in the bathroom.

Mycroft couldn't force himself to turn the phone off, instead reading new, getting more _interesting_, messages from his lover.

Someone said he looked bad and offered a glass of water. Holmes didn't hear them over the blood rushing in his head and received a few more concerned looks. When he eventually noticed everyone's attention was focused on him, all he was able to just was just nod, excuse and insist to continue.

…

Mycroft had just sat down in the Diogenes when he received a call about Sherlock causing trouble. He got to the place, carefully avoided meeting Gregory and the conversation with his brother was held inside of the car.

To be honest, the conversation hardly looked like the conversation. The Holmes Older kept talking and The Holmes Younger kept wandering his gaze around other's body.

"Did you understand?" Mycroft finished tapping at the vehicle floor with his umbrella.

The Consultant Detective snorted. "I knew he was too excited for something _civilized_."

"Not a word!" The other man hissed right after.

"I don't care about yours kinks" Sherlock muttered and get out of the car, leaving his relative with red stains on the neck.

…

The rest of the afternoon passed in a nice, cosy Diogenes' armchair with a tumbler of Scotch and fortunately silent mobile.

…

The day finally had ended, but not really for everyone. It was late evening, both men came back and had already some time to relax, at least Gregory had.

Mycroft stood leaning against the counter and glaring at his lover, which was reading a newspaper behind the table. Lestrade caught man's sight and let a small smirk appear on his lips.

"What's the matter, My?" He asked innocently.

"Nothing" The government's official muttered in answer.

"Really?"

Greg slowly turned his head with a raised eyebrow. Mycroft clenched his jaw but didn't say a word as the detective after a good half of our just ignoring him stood up and walked close over, making him almost sit on the counter. Man pressed their bodies together and gave Mycroft a daring look, running his hands along man's sides to hips.

"For God's sake, Gregory…!"

"Hmm?" The DI hummed happily.

"I'm not going to ask."

"Why not?" He asked with a disappoint and his happy expression fell down a little.

"I'm not going to ask." Holmes repeated shifting in his place involuntary.

Greg chuckled and leaned up to kiss his partner. "I think you're going to beg by the end of the evening."

"Gregory." Man almost growled. "If you don't do anything in three seconds, the only thing you can feel in your butt for a next month will be that nice toy."

Lestrade wanted to tease Mycroft some more, but found himself not really needing any further encourage and was already undoing his trousers as Mycroft worked on the shirt. By the time the politician was eventually settled down on the counter, they were both naked, more or less, and panting. He wrapped arms around his lover's shoulders, keeping him close as the other man was delicately pulling of the plug, pure eager in his eyes. Holmes buried his face in Greg's shoulder and let out a muffled cry, finally feeling his muscles relax a little.

"How did it feel?" The DI purred letting the small device fell to the floor. "Did it feel like me at all?"

Mycroft answered with a quiet moan and unconsciously jerked his hips forward, his head already covered with a pre-ejaculate. Greg let out a breathless chuckle, letting his hands wander around the other man's chest and reach the groin.

"Oh, moment" Lestrade gasped and wanted to take a step back but the government's official held him in place, reaching with one hand to the drawer beside them. Greg chuckled again at the small tube the other one drew out.

"Did you put them everywhere?"

"With you under the same roof it seemed like a reasonable step"

"Indeed, it was" He grinned, nipping Holmes' ear slightly. "But I still didn't get an answer." Gregory purred in a low voice, causing goosebumps showing on his lover's skin. "Were you thinking of me?"

"Yes" Mycroft answered digging his fingers into Lestrade's flesh as the man started to preparing himself. Even with his face hidden in Greg's shoulder, Mycroft could easily see how much aroused he was. Well, so was Holmes. For almost half of the day. "Yes" He repeated with a silent beg underneath his voice. "I thought about how it would be… to come to your office…" He kissed Greg's neck and felt him trembling from anticipation under his lips. "…and let you have me on that messy desk of yours."

"I would be more than willing" Lestrade licked the government's official's earlobe, before pulling him up into a deep, full of desire but also love, kiss.

Holmes was focused on his lover's tongue dancing around his mouth when he felt a single lubed up finger sliding into him. He let out a muffled moan into the kiss at the sudden sensation. Despite being plugged almost whole day, feeling Gregory in him, whatever _part_ of Gregory, was an outstanding feeling, even though it was usually Mycroft more enjoying being in charge.

"Perfect" The DI purred when they eventually parted. "Maybe I should convince you to wear it more often?" He smirked and Mycroft groaned.

"Just move it already…!"

"You could be more polite, darling"

The politician choked on the air when his lover pushed the finger deeper and then completely pulled out.

"Please…"

"You're so sweet when you're asking, ya know?" Greg smiled and kissed him softly, before slightly lifting Holmes' hips so the other man could wrap legs around his waist. Mycroft pulled his lover closer into a kiss, when Lestrade eventually entered him. Their lips muffled each other's moans. After a moment, Greg started to rock himself backward and forward slowly, teasingly.

Mycroft broke the kiss and hid his face in his lover's neck. "Faster" he hissed and the cop's chest shook with a soundless laughter.

"Always so commanding" Man commented but thrusted his hips faster, his hands going to grip Mycroft's waist and he received a loud groan and bite on his neck. Soon, they've set their rhythm and were moving smoothly, letting out filled with pleasure noises every now and then. Lestrade reached with one hand between them and gently stroked his lover, causing Mycroft to cry out his name.

"We hardly did anything and you're already that hard?" Greg teased playfully and ran his thumb over Holmes' head.

Mycroft muttered something about resisting and keeping it for his love and pleasant warm spread all over Lestrade's chest. It wasn't just a physical act. Every time it was an amount of love and trust they've shared.

"Please"

Quiet, but full of need beg snapped Greg out of his thoughts. And he willingly obeyed, taking man's hardness into his hand and giving it a delicate caress. He was working gently and carefully as he knew Mycroft was already close to the edge. But Greg didn't want him to cross the line yet, Greg wanted him to _dance_ over it.

Holmes whined piteously but it didn't make his lover speed up the pace, so he did it on his own. And it worked very well. Lestrade involuntarily clenched his hand and groaned loudly as he suddenly felt the politician wriggling under, well, in front of him. He silenced thrilling Mycroft with a kiss and eventually started to stroke him firmly in the matching rhythm. Greg felt Mycroft's fingers digging into his skin and taking it as a encourage; and Holmes was glad the other man understood, _he always did_; thrusted harder, once, twice, fivefold.

In that state it didn't take much the politician to come undone. He parted their lips and buried his face in Greg's crook of neck, his already sore throat letting out a hoarse cry. Mycroft rested his chest against Lestrade's flesh, holding himself on man's shoulders as he felt the coveted release. Greg followed very soon, shouting Mycroft's name and holding back a few swears. Mycroft didn't like when he sweared, and who was Gregory to object? He leaned onto Holmes, feeling light-headed and rather unable to stand on his own.

The government's official held Gregory in a loose embrace, stroking his back gently. Their heavy breaths, the only sounds in the room.

"I was near throwing my mobile through the window." Mycroft eventually murmured and Greg replied him with a breathless laugh.

"Wasn't it worth not doing it?" The DI teased.

"I'll tell you tomorrow after finishing all the reports from today's meetings..."

"Why? You weren't paying attention?"

"Well, thank you very much, but only thing I could think about was certain Head Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard getting that damn plug of from my body." Holmes answered a little more nastily than he intended to, but no offence was taken and _certain Detective Inspector_ just chuckled, wrapping his arms around his partner's waist.

* * *

**Oh God I did it.**


	20. Question

_20. Question_

_(timeline just after Greg's divorce, at the very start of his and Mycroft's relationship)_

* * *

"I hate to interrupt your rest, Gregory" Voice on the other end of the line sounded guilty, yet, Lestrade knew better than to really believe it. "but I'm compelled to ask you a favor."

The DI had to hold back a snort. Honestly. He just got himself out of London a few days ago, to get a long desired vacation, after all this stress with his wife's cheating, divorce and even starting dating Mycroft Holmes. And now, mentioned man just called him like nothing had happened and _asked a favor_. There was a reason why Gregory eventually decided to go on his vacation _alone_ but Mycroft seemed to not think of it as a important one. Greg rubbed his face and took a deep breath to prevent senseless anger in his voice. Still, he didn't want to be rude, especially toward his new lover. "Look" He began closing his eyes. "Tell me what it is all about and I promise you, I'll deal with it as soon as I get back."

There was a silent on the other end for a moment. "What I'm trying to tell you…" The cop inhaled sharply, praying in his mind for Mycroft to not say that. But apparently the whole I-Can-Read-Your-Mind thing didn't work for the phone conversation and the government's official smoothly informed him the case was really urgent and needed to be take care of as soon as possible, preferably even today.

"Mycroft" Greg sighed but Holmes cut in before he could protest or say anything else.

"Please. It's to do with Sherlock." The politician said eventually. He didn't really want to do this, force his lover to come back earlier from his deserved holiday, particularly after the small fight they had had just before the gray-haired left. Both of them thought some time separately would do just right, but of course Sherlock and his _case _had to got in the way.

Lestrade cleared his throat and opened his eyes. "Alright. I'll come" He said moving across the hotel's hall in order to go out and enjoy his last moments on the warm coast. But well, he didn't get it, instead seeing a black car with dimmed windows and a familiar woman with a BlackBerry.

"Thank you" Voice in the mobile said with obvious relief.

"I'm doing it just because of Sherlock."

"Of course. The car is already…"

"Yeah, I can see it." The DI muttered. "I'll just pack my things" He added unwillingly.

"Thank you. We shall meet at the airport then."

Greg hung up without saying anything else.

…

"I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector, why are you here?"

"I've told you, I'm on holiday."

"You're brown ad a nut. You clearly just back from your holidays!"

"I fancied another one." Greg tried to sound believable and hope he wouldn't be given a question. The question. But of course, it was Sherlock Holmes and the cop winced slightly at his next words.

"Oh, this is Mycroft, isn't it?"

"Now, look…" He tried to cut in, clear things, but Sherlock didn't let him.

"Of course it is. One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to spy on me, incognito." Lestrade took a sip of his beer trying to remain calm during Holmes' lecture. "Is that why you're calling yourself _Greg_?"

"That's his name." John eventually joined the discussion.

"Is it?"

"Yes. If you'd ever bothered to find out." Greg said already regretting that he had agreed to come there. "Look, I'm not your handler." He stated. "And I just don't do… what your brother tells me." At this point man wasn't really sure if who he was trying to convince. He didn't want to do what Mycroft told him, but somehow, he always ended up doing it.

Happily, Watson interrupted their ridiculous conversation and got Sherlock's thoughts away from his brother.

* * *

**I'm sorry for the break but it really has its reason. I don't feel like writing down it now, so just please, forgive me and keep reading. Thank you :)**

**btw. second part dialogues of course don't belong to me, not really sure at the moment who wrote The Hound, but they're theirs :)**


	21. Tears

_21. Tears_

* * *

"Hey" Greg says quietly, looking at the man standing in the door frame.

Mycroft Holmes is casually propping himself on the umbrella, but he's also pale, has dark circles under his eyes and generally looks like he hasn't got any proper sleep for a very long time.

"Hey" The DI repeats and tries to give a smile but his cut cheek makes it rather turn out as a painful expression, so instead he holds out his hands, tubes hanging from his arm swaying slowly.

Holmes realizes he was holding his breath and eventually moves. In a moment he's standing beside the white, sterile bed, squeezing his lover's hand in his. Greg carefully pulls him down, to the edge of the bed and embraces loosely. They're staying like that for a longer while, not saying anything, only medical machines' sounds feeling the room, letting know the man linked with them is okay. Well, as okay as one can be after almost getting shoot through the arm and falling from the second floor.

"I'm fine" Lestrade mutters and Mycroft nods slightly, holding his lover tighter.

"Sherlock said…"

Greg rolls his eyes and interrupts with a small smile. "Sherlock's overreacting and I thought _you_, of all people, know about it the best."

Mycroft stays silent, feeling abashed. Gregory is right, he should knew, but for some reasons he didn't. He panicked, left everything and made his way to the hospital as soon as it was possible. But now, when he's already with his lover, that feeling doesn't vanish, even though it should. Mycroft is aware his dear Detective Inspector had a lot of luck this time and he can't help but thinks next time won't be like that. His shoulders start to tremble, almost unnoticeably, but Greg knows him too well.

"Shush" He murmurs and leaves a kiss on top of the government's official head. "I'm fine. A few more days and I'll be back home."

Mycroft nods again. He wants to say something, that he knows, he believes, he is sure they wouldn't go through this one more time, but he doesn't trust his own voice. So he just brings up his head and offers his lover a smile, hoping it will fool him and draw attention away from his eyes.

But Lestrade can see it all and kisses gently Mycroft's lips before smiling even wider.

Even though Greg knows he shouldn't be happy about tears, he's glad such a beautiful and fragile sight is reserved only for him.

* * *

**I played with the narration a little and it's in present here. Well, as you can see very well. I wonder if it's worse or better and everything...? Idk, writing like that is fun (writing is generally fun but probably more if you actually know how to write, but don't mind me XD) but then I'm write my rps in past and it can be really confusing XD Should I go on like that or come back to previous _style_?**

**Oh, and by the way, I have like, very very VERY VERY important contest on Friday and I'll be studying very very VERY VERY much so forgive me any next delays. **

**Yeah, I know, my '30 days' sucks, but I suppose it can turn out like that if you're writing something longer in not-your-native-language and first time in fandom. Or simply you're spending days at school (or doing shit...) and nights roleplaying. **

**ANYWAY. (I'm talking way too much, am I not?)  
**

**Thank y'all for views, visits, favs, follows and stuff. I'd just love to see more of your opinions etc etc. You know what to do... I think it's a good way to make me write faster, really, opinions motivate me!**


	22. Cold

_22. Cold_

* * *

Greg loved absolutely every part of his lover.

But if there was something what could give him a goosebumps, make him shiver, whether they were at the warm home or in the chilly street, that were Mycroft's hands.

Regardless the weather and any other circumstances, they were always cold. Long, slender, cold fingers unlike the big and warm Lestrade's hands. At the start this contrast felt strange, embarrassingly, like Greg could by accident damage the pale, aristocratic skin and break the thin bones inside. But soon the DI got used to it and couldn't imagine holding different hands.

He loved when Mycroft massaged him, ran fingers through Gregory's hair, stroked his cheek… He loved every gentle caress, every delicate brush of the chilly fingertips on his skin, feeling like melting snowflakes. Once the government's official asked him to describe how it felt, and Greg from the lack of the other words said exactly this. Tried to express how much he loved it, how much he wanted it. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't. But when he was coming back after a long day, there wasn't better cure for all the distress than these soft fingers wandering around his body – and that was Greg's body which was giving the best answer.

Mycroft didn't knew at the start, because Lestrade didn't want to admit, but Mycroft was the Holmes after all, Mycroft _deduced_ on his own.

Mycroft never liked this… ailment. He observed how people shuddered shaking hands with him and next time were taking a deeper breath before bringing into contact with the cold skin. These were slim, politician's hands, but they didn't imply trust, they were avoided and unwanted.

But Greg trusted him, trusted him in every way and let Mycroft's fingers touch him, discover his body. They weren't _unwelcomed_ anymore, they were _desired_. Holmes with fascination watched how his lover reacted at his least brush. He saw how Lestrade relaxed under his touch, how he leaned into it every time. Mycroft let him, because he enjoyed the little burning under his fingers as well. It was like playing with fire, but knowing the flames weren't going to burn you down. They were warm, sometimes even hot, but never _too_ hot.

And sometimes, on the rare quiet moments together, they enjoyed just being curled up together, touching each other and thinking how lucky they were, living with someone who completed them, even in such a small and unimportant matter.

* * *

**Hi!**

**Sorry in advance, no new chapter tomorrow since I'm going to study for a whole day. But I'll be back on Friday and maybe bring you something M-rated again :) Well, if you want.**

**beccabrrr, Mongoose Peasant and Kitten-Kath, thank you for reviews, it really means a lot to me :))) I'm glad there's someone actually enjoying reading this challange!**


	23. Pride

_23. Pride_

* * *

They had planned a peaceful evening at home, so Greg was really surprised when the black car popped up in front of New Scotland Yard, but without Mycroft inside of it.

The detective sighed and glanced over Mycroft's PA. "Don't tell me, he's gonna be late" he groaned, leaning back in the expensive leather sit.

The woman peeked at him from above her phone and smiled slightly. "No. Just the plans changed delicately."

"Oh." Lestrade nodded, turning his gaze to the window. He recognized the view, but now, after a tiring day and with a headache coming, couldn't really place it anywhere. Soon enough, the car left him standing in front of the Thai restaurant. The one he liked, but Greg grimaced anyway. Now it wasn't going to be _a peaceful evening _at all, even if Mycroft somehow managed, and Greg was sure he could, to get the whole place only for them for some time.

He walked in eventually and with a sigh of relief welcomed a few customers sitting behind the front tables. Being the only ones would made the dinner rather awkward, than really relaxing. Greg spotted his lover and shrugged off the jacket, as he walked over their table.

"Evening"

"Gregory" Mycroft smiled softly at him and everything seemed to be normal at the first sight, but Lestrade couldn't help the feeling that the government's official was hiding something. He swallowed thickly and slowly hung his jacket over the backseat, before sitting down. _Oh God, he's gonna order me to move out._ Greg thought thrilled and risked sending a glance toward Holmes with a raised eyebrow. "I though we would eat at home today?" _It has to be that dirty shirt..._

"My apologies" He answered and bit his lower lip slightly, giving the detective's imagination a new reason to suspect something. _He will break up. He's got tired._ Lestrade's heart fell and he had to blink a few times, fighting the sudden feeling of tears burning behind his eyes. It surprised even him, how much he became attached. But it didn't seem to matter anymore...

Mycroft observed it all with a great concern, not that sure about his boyfriend's miserable expression being the result of the long day anymore. "Is everything all right?" He asked carefully. Did Gregory feel that way because of this stupid dinner? The man rubbed his temple. It didn't even sound reasonable.

Greg nodded and then remained silent for a longer while.

"Gregory." Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "Do tell me, if something is bothering you."

The copper mindlessly nodded his head again, receiving an impatient sigh from the politician. Not sure, if he could trust his own voice, Greg cleared his throat and eventually spoke. "Why are we here?"

A glimpse of grimace went through Mycroft's face. "I'm terribly sorry about it. There was an... unexpected accident." He explained, eyes carefully roaming over Gregory's silhouette.

Man frowned slightly, nervously tapping his fingers against the knee. "An accident? What do you mean?"

"Oh, that's... that's nothing really important. It just requires not using the kitchen for a certain amount of time... By the time we will get back, everything is going to be normal."

Greg relaxed a little, but couldn't help throwing suspicious glances at Mycroft every now and then. What could happen to their kitchen so it was out of order? Breaking in? Well, that was possible, but who the hell breaks into the kitchen?! It was Mycroft Holmes' kitchen, but still, Lestrade just couldn't see any sense behind an action like that.

Eventually, they were able to normally eat their dinner, casually chatting, laughing, sharing stories from the day and generally enjoying other's presence. Greg cleared his head from bothering thoughts and had a good time with his lover.

When they were finally at home, they decided to settle on the sofa and watch a DVD. Greg suddenly remembered about the kitchen and caught the first possible occasion to get there. He left the younger man in the living room in order to make them some tea.

First glance had him standing frozen in the doorframe, staring, literally _staring_, with eyes wide open, at the inside.

Whatever had happed, it caused someone to replace a few of their counters and the old ones were so polished, they were shining in the soft light of the kitchen lamp (which was new as well). There was also a brand new cooker – even more up-to-date then the previous one, if it was possible. Walls were covered with a nice, fair wallpaper with a pleasant floral pattern on it. Greg thought, that if he imagined a kitchen in his perfect house, it would probably look like that. Though, he had never shared this vision with anyone. Apparently, Mycroft Holmes had made use of his I-Can-Read-Your-Thoughts ability again.

"Have you lost your way?" The politician called out from the other room. Lestrade was so impressed with the sight, he didn't even notice how long he had been just standing and adoring.

"Coming! One minute!" He shouted back and, trying to ignore the strange feeling of being trapped in a dream, made them tea.

During his absence, Holmes moved and was now sitting with knees close to his chest, arms around them, and looked almost... terrified. The cop frowned and threw a glance toward the telly and windows, but found nothing frightening there. He carefully placed their cups on the coffee table and sat next to Mycroft. "What's up?" He asked, offering the other one a soothing smile. "Something happened?"

The government's official smiled back, as well as he could looking miserably like that, and shook his head delicately. "Oh, no, nothing at all."

Greg raised his eyebrows questioningly, but decided to change the subject. "Well, I'd be scared as well if I was a witness of such a break in." He shrugged delicately and earned a surprised glance from Mycroft.

"What do you mean?" Man asked, clearly puzzled. "Did someone break into our home?"

Greg frowned in answer. It was getting more confusing than he had thought. "I thought you could tell me something more about it." He said eventually, gesturing broadly in the general direction of the kitchen.

"Oh." Mycroft let out, but Lestrade still wasn't sure if that was a sound of understanding or rather some kind of trauma. "It's all right, it wasn't a break in."

"Then what?"

"I told you, Gregory. An accident."

"Which required fixing whole room?"

"Obviously."

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

The politician smiled apologetically, lifting the cup to his lips.

"It looks like someone tried to blow up our kitchen and you think you can have me backed off just with a smile?" The DI rolled his eyes slightly.

"I hope so." Mycroft admitted honestly, turning his sight back to the telly, though, more observant person could notice an almost unnoticeable blush on his cheeks. Greg, being the detective for a reason, spotted the hint and for a moment tried to sort out all the information he gathered.

"Wait. Don't tell me... someone- no, you. You blew up the kitchen?"

Mycroft cleared his throat, but said nothing.

"My God, you did it?" Lestrade shook his head in disbelief. "Why? If you didn't like it, you should have told me and we would have it done in, well, more... civilized way." He assured.

"I did like it." The other man muttered in answer. "I told you. An accident."

"What accident? Are you injured? Did you carry on some kind of an experiment?"

"I'm not my brother, for goodness' sake."

Greg offered a lopsided smile and shrugged. "Tell me what happened, then."

"It was the cooker." Holmes said quietly after a while.

"What?"

"The cooker."

"The cooker what?"

"The cooker exploded."

"The cooker exploded?" The detective repeated dumbly, trying to imagine how possibly his lover could made the cooker explode.

"Yes, didn't you hear me?" Mycroft snapped.

"Wait. Were you... were you cooking?"

The government's official bit into his lower lip, hesitant, but eventually nodded. "I tried."

"You tried to cook yourself a dinner and blew up the kitchen?"

"I tried to make a cake for you." Mycroft muttered and took a sip of his tea, trying to still look serious and unmoved.

There was a moment of silence, before Lestrade put his cup down and started to laugh. But it wasn't a mocky laugh, it was nice and warm and even the younger man was surprised. Greg wrapped an arm around his and pecked his cheek.

"That's the most unbelievable and... romantic thing I've ever heard." He breathed out eventually, his hazel eyes sparkling with an amusement.

"So you're not angry with me?" Mycroft mumbled, looking over the other man unsurely. Honestly, this kind of reaction rather surprised him. Gregory had always liked that kitchen...

"Of course not, you idiot! You should have told me from the start!"

Mycroft cleared his throat in attempt to say something, but the detective didn't let him, pulling his lover closer and laughing again.

"I had a dozen of different theories why we didn't eat at home and about your nervousness and everything. I was pretty sure you were going to break up with me."

"And who's being an idiot here? I've never considered breaking up with you." The politician assured, wriggling a little to get himself out of the tight grip.

"Yeah, I'm sorry" Lestrade nodded. "Next time just tell me! It was adorable, by the way. And the kitchen is beautiful."

Mycroft smiled in answer, thinking, it was worth to give up the pride sometimes.

* * *

**YES! I AM BACK! WOOO HOOO XD I TOLD YOU I'LL BRING IT TO THE END!**


	24. Love

_24. Love_

* * *

"...ory... Gregory..."

Lestrade heard a voice trying to slip into his dream and wake him up, but the man didn't want to. He turned to the side, trying to get away from the sound, but after a while, the familiar voice called out again and a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, moving Greg to his back again.

The detective groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Lemme sleep..." he mumbled, folding an arm over his eyes.

"Gregory, wake up, for goodness' sake" Mycroft repeated with annoyance in his voice and tried to pull away sleeping man's arm. Eventually, Lestrade gave up and let him do just that, his eyes snapping open to see Holmes' pale face above him.

"What?" He almost growled, obviously not very happy he was waken up in the middle of the night. Though, Greg's expression softened a little, when he saw his lover wrinkling his forehead in a worry and clenching his fingers on the duvet tightly. "A nightmare?" He asked, bringing a hand up to caress Mycroft's cheek gently.

"Yes. A living nightmare." The politician answered and sat on his heels, pulling up Lestrade with him.

The cop raised his eyebrow questioningly and looked around. "What? Sorry love, but I can't see your _nightmare_ anywhere." Greg said with a small smile, still too sleepy to actually laugh.

Mycroft grunted and shifted onto Greg's side of the bed, his eyes roaming over the nightstand. Lestrade followed his gaze and stared there for a while, trying, really trying, to see anything, but failing anyway. After a while he gave up and shrugged. "Nope, still nothing."

The government official sighed impatiently and took a newspaper from the second furniture, folding it and pointing with it at something. Lestrade narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"Shall I buy you a pair of glasses?" Mycroft scowled softly and pushed his lover forward. Jut then, Greg eventually noticed a small, tiny spider on the web on the lamp. He bit into his lower lip to prevent himself from bursting into laugh. Though, nonetheless his efforts, his shoulders started to shake involuntarily.

"What?" Mycroft scowled, fisting on his hands back of Lestrade's t-shirt. "It's not funny."

"You're afraid of spiders" Greg turned his head to him, asking with disbelief.

"So what?" The politician mumbled.

"N-nothing." Greg couldn't help, but laughed. "I've just thought... a man like you, so powerful, shouldn't be scared after seeing such a small and harmless creature." He added, earning a nudge from the other man.

"Just kill it." Holmes grunted.

"What? You want me to kill the poor thing?"

Mycroft nodded. "Yes, obviously. Isn't there a statement the people should kill spiders for the whom they love?"

"Really, Mycroft?" Lestrade turned to fully face him. "It's a phantasy for teenagers."

"Go on, Gregory dear, you can prove your love" The government official tried to encourage him.

"By getting rid of the spider?"

"Exactly"

Greg sighed, but smiled and pecked the younger man's lips. "'kay, 'kay, just gimme a moment." He yawned and slowly got out of the bed, scratching back of his head.

Mycroft completely moved onto the other side of bed and tangled into the sheets there, peeking suspiciously in the direction of his opponent every now and then. When Greg came back, armed with a glass, he laughed at the sight of his lover in his fortress.

"How is the battle?" He chuckled, walking over the politician and messing his hair.

"Good". He answered in a conspiracy whisper. "He turned away."

The detective rolled his eyes. Honestly. A serious, grown-up man, who could control the whole United Kingdom everyday, was acting like a child, just because he had seen a spider. Greg moved closer to the nightstand and with one, quick move put the miserable being into the glass, before shaking it off through the window. "Here, done." Lestrade put the glass down to the bedside table and clapped his hands. "You're nightmare is gone."

Holmes cleared his throat and nodded delicately, easing down his grab on the covers. "Thank you." He muttered, shifting to get back onto his side.

Gregory didn't move though, just folded arms on his chest and with raised eyebrows was looking down at Mycroft, who just patted impatiently the place beside.

"Hurry up and get back here, I plan to get some more sleep tonight." Greg tutted and Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Come back here, Gregory Lestrade, my knight in a shining armour."

The DI laughed and crawled onto the bed, kissing his boyfriend by the way. "Is that a new way to say you love me?"

"Mhm..." Mycroft murmured in answer and moved closer to the other man.

"And is that anything I've got for exterminating a poor spider?"

The politician wrapped his arms around Greg's waist. "You've got my love."

"Well... that's a big thing."

"Is it."

"Should I be thankful?"

"Are you?"

"I can't express how much."


	25. Start

_25. Start_

* * *

Greg groaned hearing the beeping somewhere in the back of his head. He wished, oh how much he wished it to be only a part of his dream. He pulled the soft duvet higher in the protective gesture, trying to cover his ears and get away from the annoying sounds. After a moment they went silent and the detective hummed sleepy with approval, his muscles relaxing again.

But after a few minutes, the mobile went off again and this time someone took it and shoved under the blanket. Lestrade whined unhappily when the cold device touched his shoulder and eventually sat up with a wince.

"Yours" muttered the man hid under the other end of the duvet.

"Yeah, I noticed" Greg grunted, taking the phone and reading the text which arrived meanwhile. "I have to go"

If he was expecting any coherent answer, the silver haired man would be disappointed, because everything he'd received was a soft hum of understanding. Greg shrugged it off and carefully stood up from the bed. He was used to it. No matter if they were staying at his flat or at Mycroft's, every time when he was called to come in earlier, Mycroft would stay and make his way out when necessary. Holmes had keys to his lover's flat and Greg had to his, but his habit was different. The cop would never stay, feeling a little out of place every time and preferring to say goodbye properly.

Lestrade took a quick shower and hastily clothed, not even bothering with getting himself something to eat. There was really no time for such a thing, besides, he was quite sure that contaminants of his fridge would do better his boyfriend than him, being in such a hurry in addition.

When Greg was about to leave the room, his wrist had been grabbed. His bedroom wasn't particularly big, so a person could do that not even moving from the bed. Lestrade was surprised though, Mycroft had never did that before. He slowly turned towards the other man, his eyebrows raised.

"Move in."

The cop blinked a few times and laughed nervously. Mycroft had to have a very nice dream and couldn't wake up from it. Or not...? Sheets moved and Holmes managed to slowly sit up tangled in them.

There was a little sheepish smile on Greg's face, before he bent slightly and pressed kiss to his lover's messed hair. "Stay as long as you want. I'm sorry, but I can't make them wait." With these words he tried to leave the room again, but apparently the government's official grip turned out to be surprisingly strong.

"Move in with me." Mycroft repeated, quite coherently for a sleeping person.

Lestrade couldn't do much about it and just stood there for a while, staring dumbly at the man in front of him. Of course, he wanted to spend his life with Mycroft and, of course, he wanted to live with him since it would be like another step in their relationship, another start, but he never saw it coming. And now, at this damn four in the morning he just said it out of the blue. Greg shook his head with a laughter, leaning to kiss his boyfriend once again, this time on the lips. When he pulled back, he was grinning and didn't look like a man who was just forced out of warm bad at some murderous hour anymore. Mycroft finally let go of his arm and now was just staring up at him, waiting for the answer.

"Mmm, we will talk about moving my stuff later, now I really ought to go now." The detective whispered eventually, laying the auburn haired man back to sleep and wrapping the duvet around him. "But call me when you'll have some time."


End file.
